


Growing, Together.

by tay_oh_three



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angels and Demons, Can be read as platonic or pining romantic dads, Crowley is good with kids, Established Relationship, Families of Choice, Found Family, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Ineffable Dads, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Love, Nonbinary Character, Snake Crowley, TV Canon, Very vague references, and the valid variations of love, i haven't read the book it's pretty sad, or you may consider, soft Crowley
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 14:50:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 2,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19975885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tay_oh_three/pseuds/tay_oh_three
Summary: [ ON HOLD ]In which Aziraphale and Crowley are met with a suffering human child who believes that they themself are a fallen angel and seeks their guidance. Upon the first day, Aziraphale isn't so sure, while Crowley unconsciously already made (read as: forged) legal adoption papers.alternatively titled: Ineffable Dads and an Ineffable Child.[super random sporadic updates because i'm in school]





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guendoline is rather impressionable, you see, – and quite insightful for a child. It was beyond Aziraphale and Crowley on how this mortal child ever found out exactly what both of them are and insisted that they were an angel, – and a fallen one, at that.

The child suddenly burst into Aziraphale's library and the ineffable couple's lives one particularly rainy evening, despite the lowered blinds and the glare of the now-modernized "closed" sign. The angel and the demon immediately sobered up as they heard the commotion from the back room, where they were sharing a particularly delightful wine.

"Oh dear, what could that be?" Aziraphale inquired, getting up.

"I'll take care of the human for you."

Crowley shivers strangely, as if uncomfortable, before turning into his magnificent serpent form. Unlike the form he took back in Eden, he chose to be smaller, yet intimidating to mortal eyes. He slithered out into the main area of Aziraphale's library, where the lights which were previously off are now turned on.

Lightning strikes earth, somewhere, and thunder booms shortly after. The library door was shut and rained-on Wellingtons made wet floors and even wetter carpet. Aziraphale will not be pleased, the snake thought. Crowley's forked tongue flicked out, sensing the intruding human. A child…?

He rose up to a height in an attempt to frighten the intruder, who was currently fussing over how to turn some of the library fairy lights on, into leaving. The child turned. Big shining eyes met pools of molten gold,[1] and they spoke, with terrifying certainty.

"Demon?"

It felt wrong to hear that word from a child's mouth. There was no hint of accusation in it; not a single bit of hesitance. It was a statement, plain and simple, executed with the innocence and nonchalance of any child.

Crowley stared back, but withdrew, settling on a loose coil on the floor. Aziraphale walks from the back room upon hearing the exchange of sorts, collecting the reptilian bundle into his arms and warily side-eyeing the intruder.

"Angel?" the child stated with a similar tone. Aziraphale froze. Crowley decided to shift into a collar snake and rested on the angel's shoulders, quite convinced that this might be a bizarre dream.[2]

"Pardon me, dear, but what are you doing here in my library? We're quite obviously closed, you see, even if I must've left the door unlocked. Of course, given that it is raining–"

Aziraphale was cut off.

"The door wasn't unlocked. I let myself in."

Aziraphale was getting nervous. "I– well, you do know that's a crime, correct?"

"Only humans do that. I need to talk with you. Please?"

The angel pursed his lips, absentmindedly reaching out to pet Crowley, who nuzzled his head against Aziraphale's offered hand in a cat-like manner. "You are human, are you not?"

"I am nothing of the sort. I thought you'd be so clever..."

Not-so-distantly, the addressed angel recalls something similar that Crowley said, along the lines of an apology and running away to Alpha Centauri.

There was a pause.

"Well, I think it'd be best to talk somewhere more discreet," said Aziraphale, finally. The child made a sound of affirmation. The rain pattered on. The front lights flickered off.

An angel, a demon, and a mortal child go into a library. It sounds like the start of a joke, but it isn't, no. Not really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Crowley would argue that it was the shade of horrid brimstone instead of supposed gold.
> 
> [2] Sleepy snek is sleepy. Crowley still paid attention, of course. After all, it's their first time dealing with a tiny human-shaped being who seems to know an awful lot about the ethereal and the occult.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The rain-soaked child was wrapped up in towels to dry and was now seated on a loveseat that was decidedly Crowley's until five minutes ago. The demon aforementioned was now luxuriously coiled over Aziraphale's lap.

The child somehow acquired a cup of steaming tea and Aziraphale found himself being served in his own home.

"I'm sorry, this is all so confusing. What are you exactly? Everything tells me that you are a mere mortal child. Up There might have at least sent a memo if there would be a prophet, and if there was, why now, when the Armageddidn't took place months ago!"

Crowley supportively hissed as if adding something substantial.

"I'm not a prophet. I was… an angel."

Aziraphale pursed his lips and knitted his brows together, unsure of what to say. The child, whose name was earlier found to be Guendoline, took this to be a sign to keep talking. Crowley watched with keen interest, while the angel got lost in thought.

"I was, until I wasn't. I don't know… I just woke up and felt that everything's gone, and I was stripped of everything I knew. It… it…"

"Burned?" Crowley supplied, now human-shaped and sprawled over Aziraphale and definitely meant to fall over but miraculously did not. Guendoline, who was barely surprised by the sudden transformation, nodded sadly.

"You Fell," the angel said softly, after processing the child’s words. Aziraphale knew it was impossible. This soul, Aziraphale saw, was too weak and too small. A true human mortal, if his metaphysical senses are telling him right. And yet, despite this, something else was also true: This child went through a lot of pain.

So maybe they didn’t fall from Her Grace, but Aziraphale thinks this pain was very much similar to Crowley’s, although at an infinitesimal scale. [3] Guendoline might as well have had basked in Her Light once, but something, or someone, blocked the Light from coming through and forced them into the dark.

Aziraphale thinks Crowley might have known as much as he had, but apparently not.

“...your wings?” the demon murmured, moving from his position on Aziraphale's lap and going eye-to-eye with the child.

“Gone,” Guendoline whispered. “Charred. Burnt. Pulverized.”

“Oh no, they didn’t,” the demon said, wincing sympathetically.

“They took everything,” Guendoline muttered solemnly, hand reaching out and producing nothing. Mortal hands could not produce "miracles," ethereal or occult. Mortal minds could not spot an angel and a demon by simply looking. And yet...

Aziraphale didn't expect what happened next. Quite honestly, Crowley didn't either. He reached out, cold hand closing over an overturned one, the opposite arm wrapping around the hurting child in a caring embrace.

He knew, oh he knew truth very well. He knew it, the difficulty of revealing it, the lengths a human's mind would go for to bury it. He was a demon, and he wielded truth like a double-edged sword.

Crowley ached for the child in ways he wouldn't admit. Children hold a special place in the demon's heart, although he wouldn't say it in those words specifically. And oh, Crowley didn't care about how this child knew of his and Aziraphale's true natures. Not right now. Guendoline must've sought them out for a reason.

The serpentine demon froze for a fraction of a second after feeling the embrace being reciprocated, but eventually relaxed, hoping that the action spoke for the words [4] stuck in his throat.

Crowley took away the rain's damage to the child as he pulled away and regained composure. Guendoline lets out a long yawn in the middle of saying something like 'thank you.'

Aziraphale snaps out of a trance-like state, looking up at Crowley, whose fingertips lightly brushed where his wings [5] met his back in an attempt to get his attention.

"Aziraphale, Guendoline needs somewhere to sleep," Crowley murmured softly and approached the child once more.

"Your flat, perhaps?"

"Too many sharp angles. I don't really think it'd be suitable for a child."

Guendoline's eyes shone with something– perhaps hope? happiness?– and looked at Crowley with intense gratitude.

"O-oh… just tonight? At yours? You ought to be back anyway. Breakfast tomorrow?"

Crowley sighed. Well, more like hissed dejectedly, actually, and seeming quite displeased. He turns away from Aziraphale. The angel doesn't pout, but the expression on his face was close enough.

"Well, kid, how about we go to sleep for the night? It's getting late, y'see? We can talk more tomorrow, if you'd like," said the demon to the child, with a hushed voice that was much too caring than that of the usual, while Aziraphale sat down like he always would, tea cold in his hands, and terribly confused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [3] In their souls, there was an emptiness that had to be filled but is remedied by layers of imagination and something else, which for Crowley was sleep, and for Guendoline was an amount of sweets that rivalled Aziraphale’s consumption.
> 
> [4] Words like "I'm sorry," "You didn't deserve it," "I will protect you at all costs," and "I'd gladly tempt those assholes to death for you and all you have to do is ask."
> 
> [5] These, of course, are tucked away neatly in another plane of existence, untouched since the Armageddidn't, and quite ruffled despite the lack of use.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guendoline was gently guided away by the demon from the back room and to the outside of the bookshop.

"I never got your name," they said, hand in the demon's, who held an umbrella over the two of them.

"Oh," he started, opening the door to a vintage-looking car. "It's Crowley."

Guendoline climbed into the car and Crowley closed the door. "This is a lovely car, Mr. Crowley," they said sincerely. "Is it yours?"

"'Course it is. You know, just Crowley is fine. No need for those silly formalities, ya little demon." Crowley ruffled the child's hair playfully through the Bentley's window, and they giggled in reply.

The demon went to the driver's seat and started the car. He left the bookshop, plagued by something he pushed down and ignored. He focused his idle ideations to setting up a room for Guendoline.

Crowley drove slowly, strangely enough. The ride was silent, and relatively fast, as Crowley didn't bother with stop lights or road signs, slowing down occasionally for pedestrian crossers, but not that one teen-aged jaywalker, who, according to Guendoline, 'had the audacity to scream?' which made the demon laugh, then frown in concern for the child's upbringing. It couldn't have been worse than Warlock's, right? [6]

The demon parked the Bentley outside the building where his flat is. The rain had stopped at one point, but Crowley had been too deep in thought to notice. He turned to the child, mouth opening to say something, then face softening upon seeing Guendoline snoring lightly in their seat.

With the utmost care not just any demon could muster, Crowley took Guendoline into his arms, miracling all obstacles away until he reached the thirteenth floor, where he resides. The child stirs.

"Mhh… Crowley?"

"Hello, you."

"Where're we?"

"We're in my flat. I had a spare room lying about."

"'m sleepin' alone?"

"Yeah. That cool?"

"Nope. Nuh-uh. No' cool a' all."

"Hmm… looks like I suddenly have a spare bed and lost a room, then. How's that?"

Guendoline raised two thumbs-up in reply, which if not for Crowley's occult instincts would've sent them tumbling. The child slowly settles back to sleep.

Crowley walked to his room, whose door opened up for him automatically. Just a few steps beside his bed was a smaller version of it, down to the silk bedsheets and crazy-fluffy pillows, all designed to accommodate the child.

The child was carefully set down in bed, and Guendoline sighed as the demon pulled the blanket over. Warmth blooms somewhere in Crowley's non-existent heart.

The lamp lights slowly dim, leaving the moonlight dancing alone in the room. A serpentine figure snuggles up in bed, feeling warm, for a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [6] Wrong. Terribly wrong.
> 
> [a/n: i ran out of pre-written chapters f u c k]


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale ran his fingertips lightly over the wings of his mug. The tea sits cold in the ceramic, a souvenir from someone the perturbed principality couldn't remember at the moment.

How could Crowley overlook such a fact, anyway? That the child was fully mortal was clear. Did he really overlook it? Or was it simply his way with kids that made him act like this?

This child could put them both in danger. Or could be put in danger because of them! Crowley would bear the guilt forever if so, so why would he dare allow this child even a fraction of their time?

A sentimental immortal risking being greatly attached to a mortal being… Aziraphale didn't want that for himself. Certainly not for Crowley either. The angel worried his lower lip, deep in thought.

The demon will return come tomorrow morning, most likely with not-demon-child in tow, and Aziraphale's senses will flood with a gentle protective warmth surrounding the pair. He didn't tell Crowley that he sensed the love he had — the protectiveness over the hurting child — it started as overwhelming surge before simmering down to a bearable tingle.

Oh, the fondness in Crowley's actions was simply remarkable. Never in Aziraphale's life had he sensed such love from the demon for anything else but the angel himself. This child truly was something…

But, ah… the child still thought they were a demon. Crowley seemed to play along, but the thought of living a lie with a child involved made Aziraphale's guts twist quite unpleasantly.

Where would the child go, if not to good parents, correct? But the humans would think Guendoline mad. The poor dear needs to be raised with care and given a chance to flourish and grow, then perhaps truth will reveal itself. 

Aziraphale looked heavenwards[7] and asked The Almighty without praying, so that it need not go through Up There, for guidance, or some kind of sign for what would be the best course of action.

He waited. There came none. "Of course," muttered the principality aloud. A sigh and a beat passes. Exhaustion made itself known.

...wait. The angel got up, stumbled over to a wall, and in haste, summoned up a mirror and a source of light.

Aziraphale never gets tired. Angels don't get tired! But he wasn't quite an angel. Not anymore.

Was this it? A sign? Aziraphale's reflection remained as confused as he. Or perhaps a punishment. The Punishment. Her Punishment. Oh no.

Anxiety gnawed at the angel. Eyes closed, wings out. A few items were hit and broken, but it seems this is more important. With a deep steadying breath, Aziraphale's eyes opened.

White. Ruffled they may be, but Aziraphale still had the pass to heaven.[8]

The angel sighed in relief. Perhaps it would be best to try to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [7] That is to say the skies, where, between pulsing stars and asteroids nestles God Herself, watching.
> 
> [8] While yes, this is correct, Crowley also passed through heaven's security, technically. To clarify, this passage merely means that Aziraphale is still one worthy of Her love.
> 
> [a/n: waaaaa feed author kudos and comments to continue. uwu thank u for much support]


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guendoline wakes up with a scream dying halfway through their throat. They breathed heavily, a long-forgotten melody breezing past their trembling lips. Lyrics tumbled out in bits and pieces as their mind struggled to analyze the dream.

On the other, much larger bed, Crowley stirs, reptilian eyes watchful in the darkness provided by the blinds until he notices the dazed child.

"Guendoline?" he inquired softly, prying off the duvet from himself. The child didn't even notice the movement.

The demon gets up and approaches slowly, tapping them once on the shoulder. Guendoline acknowledged the action with a hitch in their breathing.

"C-Crowley! I-! Um. S-sorry," the child stuttered out, wiping away tears.

Crowley hushed them gently, saying that it was alright. He crouched down and reached for their cold shaking hand.

"Shh… I'm here. Did you have a bad dream?"

Guendoline nodded slowly.

"Can you tell me what it was about?"

"Forgot it," they murmured.

"That's alright. Do you want to get up? Want some food?"

Guendoline was quite amazed at how Crowley acted so normally.

"Demons don't cry. Why am I different?"

Crowley frowned, hesitated, then continued. "Some just are, you know? I'm friends with an angel! Demons don't do that!"

Guendoline smiled, just slightly. "You're right."

"C'mon then. Bathroom's[9] this way. Crépes for breakfast?"

"Crépes sound awesome!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [9] This bathroom exists only about twice a month.
> 
> [a/n: ??? consecutive days of update? thank u so much for support. to that one comment that might have said something like "aziraphale is kinda silly" in another language, u right.]


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The demonic duo left Crowley's flat and zoomed through Soho's streets, leaving an apparition of joyful shrieks which upon hearing is promptly forgotten, while also leaving a feeling of impish glee buzzing through various victim's minds.

The Bentley arrives at A.Z. Fell and Co. at precisely 10:43 in the morning with the radio playing something lively and upbeat[10].

The bookshop is unsurprisingly closed, so Crowley sauntered over to the door with Guendoline in tow.

"So, Guendoline, how'd you get in? The door is  _ always _ locked when the sign says 'closed'."

The child looked up at the rather tall demon with a smile and a defiant glimmer in their eyes. "I'll never tell."

Crowley honest-to-Someone pouted, just for effect. "Show an old demon a little trick, won't ya? How'd you do without the…" the demon gestures vaguely with his hands "...miracle stuff?"

Guendoline pretends to be deep in thought. "Alright, but you owe me one."

Crowley is amused. "Deal."

With a flourish, the child produces a little tool in their hands, with little divots and bumps that seem to adjust to keyholes accordingly. "It's a key. Designed it myself!" Guendoline's eyes shined with pride.

"Really now? So, how's it work?"

"Simple, really," They say, fitting it into the keyhole. "You just stick it in and it fits all the little locksy bits!" The door swings open.

That definitely answers something. The demon looked quite amazed. "What a clever little demon you are. Now, let's go bother Aziraphale, shall we?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [10] This is a song by Queen, obviously, because honestly, does it really play anything else?
> 
> [a/n: i'm so sorry for the lack of updates D:]


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the demon Crowley, with the human child Guendoline in tow, entered the familiar bookshop, everything seemed the same as before, with the exception of something rather significant.

Surprisingly, there was no angel in sight. That's certainly new.

"Aziraphale!" Crowley called out. It wasn't like the angel didn't go out much, it was that Crowley felt the angel's presence right there, soothing and familiar, which confused him because, well, there's no angel to be seen.

"Don't you think he's asleep?"

"He never really does. It's not his kinda thing. I'll look around upstairs. Wait here, lock that door, and do not break anything, else you will get smote."

"Whatever, dad."

Crowley snorted at the child's attitude, before realizing what they had said. He swaggered upstairs, a little distracted and totally not overthinking being called a father[11], and sought out his angel.

Aziraphale was in fact, asleep in sleeping quarters that looked very distinctly  _ him _ . Tartan patterns could be found all over the sheets, and a fuzzy blanket covered his sleeping form. Crowley almost felt bad for having to wake the angel up upon seeing the other’s serene face.

“Angel,” Crowley whispered softly, placing a tentative arm on the angel’s shoulder. The covers shift and the demon belatedly realizes that the covers were actually the angel’s wings in the dim light. The majestic wings extended from Aziraphales back, shifting slightly.

_ Why would Aziraphale allow himself to be left in such a vulnerable state? _ A sense of urgency filled Crowley.

“Aziraphale, wake up,” said the demon, nudging the other more forcibly. The angel stirs, a confused noise leaving his lips, then jolts awake, wings flapping frantically. Crowley ducks just in time, then gets up, unfazed.

“Morning, angel,” Crowley greeted with a playful smile about his face.

“Crowley!” The angel looked flustered and a little confused, a light pink dusting his cheekbones. He takes some time to compose himself. “Oh, my dear boy, pardon me. What are you doing here?”

“Waking you up?”

“I mean-” Aziraphale is cut off by the sound of Guendoline’s voice. “Hey, um… Someone’s at the door!”

Their voice reminds Aziraphale of the past evening, a question on his tongue for his demon quite promptly held back as he readies himself for the day in his usual cream suit and tartan bow tie with the aid of a miracle.

Crowley follows the angel downstairs, noting the hint of alarm blanketed by the child’s rather neutral choice of words. They had to get out of here, fast. He hoped Aziraphale sensed the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [11] The demon made a mental note to contemplate it as soon as the child is at least at a 2-mile-radius away from him.
> 
> [a/n: *gasp* double update??? can u believe we reached chapter seven w/o getting to any important point yet?? ugh so sorry folks i'll keep this going i swear]


End file.
